here's to e.e. cummings

here's to opening and upward, to leaf and to sap
and to your self whose eyes smell of the sound of rain

and here's to silent certainly mountains; and to
a disappearing poet of always; and to snow
and to morning; and to morning's beautiful friend
twilight (and a first dream called ocean)

--e.e. cummings

Photo: Snow Benches at Twilight, St. Petersburg, Russia
mjg photography, Mike's Public Gallery

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